


Formica tables

by StacPolly



Series: Supermarket Sweep [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StacPolly/pseuds/StacPolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to the one-shot 'Supermarket Sweep'. Best to read that one first. It wasn't intended to be a series but Harry and Draco wanted to talk about what happened when Draco's first trip to a Muggle supermarket coincided with the Sainsburys mass-gay kiss protest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Formica tables

“So,” he says, wrapping his hands round his mug of tea. It’s a blustery day and Malfoy looks incongruously smart in the formica-tabled fish and chip shop down near the harbour.

Back straight, shoulders rigid, Malfoy fiddles with the little yellow packets of sweetener. “What is this stuff?”

“What? Oh, that?” Harry pulls a packet over with his forefinger. “It’s a chemical sweetener, Muggles who want to lose weight put it in their tea instead of sugar. Probably not your kind of thing.”

Malfoy raises an eyebrow. “Because I’m so naturally slim?”

“You’re sweet enough already,” Harry says, before his brain catches up with him. At Malfoy’s startled glance he backtracks. “It’s just a Muggle saying. What I meant was - you always seemed to like sugar, and sweets and, so- anyway. Sorry about this place. And the tea. Probably not your sort of thing, either.”

Malfoy pulls his mug over and looks at it dubiously. He hasn’t touched it, but there’s a tide-mark near the rim and a hint of lipstick on the edge. Harry can’t really blame him.  
“You don’t have to,” he says. “Drink it, I mean. I just wanted to get us out of that wind and it’s school holidays, so-.”

Pushing the mug back into the centre of the table Malfoy nods. “Sorry. I didn’t want to meet at the hotel, I thought we could get some coffee and it would be -.” He trails off.

Thankful for the opening Harry takes a sip of tea, and instantly regrets it. “You said you wanted to talk.”

The silence stretches on and Harry glances around only to catch the eye of the waitress. She rolls her eyes and reaches for her notepad but he shakes his head. The last thing they need is more of the stuff. He turns back to his companion, who, jaw clenched, is making a small pyramid of brown sugar crystals.

“Draco?” he prompts at last.

Malfoy’s hands still and he takes a deep breath. “What - what, _exactly_ happened yesterday?”

“At the supermarket?”

At that, Malfoy’s head shoots up. “ _Yes_ , at the supermarket. I’m not in the habit of being, a- a _assaulted_ in purveyors of domestic produce.”

“It was Sainsburys, not bloody Fortnums,” Harry says, and it’s lucky he’s not the hot head he once was, because _honestly_. “And it wasn’t assault.”

“You - you- _embraced_ me under false pretences,” returns Malfoy.

“You seemed to be enjoying it.”

“I did _not_ -” Malfoy begins, his face flushed, eyes darting to the side. But no one’s listening. No one cares.

“ _I_ enjoyed it,” says Harry leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands over his stomach.

Malfoy looks at him properly for the first time since they got to the chippie, but he still doesn’t speak.

Harry sighs. “Look, I know you read the paper. You know what it was. You got down with the Muggle hordes and struck a blow for gay rights, all on the same day. Not bad for a first attempt.”

“I’m not -”

“You are. And if you weren’t interested you wouldn’t have sent me that owl.”

Malfoy barks out a laugh at that, though it still sounds strained. “Were you always this direct?”

“No,” says Harry, pulling the ketchup bottle from his hand before he can experiment with that too. “I learnt to be, to get what I want.”

“And what do you want now?”

Harry shrugs. He could say ‘you’ and maybe that’s all Malfoy would need, but he has an unpleasant feeling that it wouldn’t end well, not in the long run.

“I’ve been through this, Mal - Draco. I know what you’re going to say - I don’t have the same background, I don’t have the same pressures - but I do know, a little, what you’re going through. And I can, I don’t know, I thought I could help you."

Malfoy scowls and reaches for the brown sauce. “You’re not my friend, Potter. I don't have friends. Not any more."

He doesn’t answer directly. “Have you ever thought it was strange, how much attention we paid each other at school? Hermione calls it ‘pulling pig-tails’ - she and Ron were just as bad. And look at them.”

Malfoy looks vaguely nauseated. “Are we talking about the same school? Moving staircases, insane headmaster, even more insane murderous megalomaniac? I was not following you around the halls like a lovesick puppy, Potter, I was following you round the halls hoping to get a chance to kick your face in.”

Harry shrugs. “In fairness, you only actually did that once.”

“Not for lack of trying,” says Malfoy, but he looks like he’s almost enjoying himself now.

“You can’t just sweep away seven years of hatred and bullying -” he glances up. “I know I said and did some pretty awful things, Potter. I’m not completely unaware and I’ve had plenty of time for reflection."

“And I’m sorry too.” Harry reasons that that’s about as close to an apology as he’s ever going to get. “I brought you some proper tea,” he says, reaching into the carrier bag at his feet. “You can’t get proper tea in the shops round here.”

Looking startled Malfoy takes the turquoise Fortnums bag. “That’s - that’s almost sweet, Potter. You’re not _courting_ me are you?”

Harry laughs. “I don’t think anyone has _courted_ since Victoria was on the throne. No, Draco, I’m not courting you. Even if you were interested I don’t think it would be advisable for you to get involved with the first gay man you meet. I’m - well, I suppose I’m offering to be your friend.”

Malfoy looks at him consideringly. “You’re far more articulate than I remember.”

“Thanks, I think.” Harry leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Look - I’m quite enjoying this. I think you might be too. Let’s just give it a go - being friends - and see what happens.”

 


End file.
